


Book of Poetry

by Samara_W



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Bad Poetry, Emotional, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love Poems, Original Fiction, Poetry, Very Bad Poetry, angsty teen is me, angsty teen stuff, blame my friends, i am angsty teen, my friends kept asking for me to post my crappy poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samara_W/pseuds/Samara_W
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Bent double, haggard and tired.  
Gaunt cheeks and pale skin.  
The sight of someone who’s been through the wars.  
Now you stand here, desperately clinging to his arm for support;  
Thin skin stretched over frail bones,  
Veins showing in the webs of skin between spindly fingers.  
And your eyes,  
More haunted than any place on this earth  
And darker than a moonless night.  
A sight I could never forget,  
No matter how desperately I wish to  
As I bury my own head in my hands,  
Tears streaming in rivulets down my burning cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

I like the comfort ,  
The peace we can share together.   
Even with quiet truths  
And whispered confessions  
Hanging in the silence.  
Ghosts of words  
Floating through the dark,  
From aching lips  
To willing ears.  
I like the way that   
When it’s all over,  
And the moment is gone,  
Nothing changes.   
The friendship remains,  
Strong.  
Unshaken in the face of murmured admissions  
And little secrets divulged,  
And my soft words echoing in our heads.


	3. Chapter 3

I am the worst kind of person.   
The begging kind,  
The pleading kind,  
The kind that falls to my knees for you.  
The foolish kind.


	4. Chapter 4

You whisper in my ear you love me,  
And it feels like nails on a chalkboard  
Resounding in my head.  
Filthy little lies;  
A delicate web of pretty untruths  
Spun to placate me,  
Pour oil on my flame,  
So that I may satisfy your selfish desires.  
And like an obedient songbird  
I flock to you at your call,  
Only for me to weep at your feet,  
And my song to be a desperate scream  
Torn from my lungs as I breathe out.


End file.
